


Freezer Burn

by RhayneRain



Category: Original - Fandom, Original Work
Genre: Abuse, Aftermath of Torture, Angst and Romance, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Blood and Gore, Blood and Torture, Brutal Murder, Crime Scenes, Crimes & Criminals, Dark, Death Threats, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Gay, Gay Character, Gay Male Character, Gay Sex, Gore, Horror, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Implied/Referenced Torture, Implied/Referenced Underage Sex, Incest, Kidnapping, Killing, LGBTQ Character, LGBTQ Themes, M/M, Mind Rape, Murder, Murder Kink, Obsession, Obsessive Behavior, Original Character(s), Original Fiction, Parent/Child Incest, Past Abuse, Past Rape/Non-con, Past Sexual Abuse, Physical Abuse, Psychological Horror, Psychological Torture, Psychological Trauma, Rape, Rape/Non-con Elements, Romance, Scary, Serial Killers, Series, Sexual Abuse, Slow Romance, Stalking, Suicide, Suicide Attempt, Threats, Threats of Rape/Non-Con, Threats of Violence, Thriller, Torture, Twinks, Underage Masturbation, Underage Rape/Non-con, Underage Sex, Verbal Abuse, Violence, Violent Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-20
Updated: 2020-05-19
Packaged: 2021-03-01 16:41:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 10
Words: 14,490
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23750227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RhayneRain/pseuds/RhayneRain
Summary: A series of violent murders begin to occur across a small town, frightening locals and leaving police to a confusing investigation. The culprit is assumed to be a serial killer - given the name The Mannequin Killer. After spotting one of the bodies, a twisted young teenager begins to grow an interest in these locals murders, and forms grotesque fantasies dealing with the sick criminal. However, he is quickly pulled away from these ideal fantasies when the killer forms his own interest in the boy - specifically in his porcelain skin.
Relationships: Allen O'Connor/Nabil Astafei, Fabius Morgans/Harvey Lennon
Comments: 1
Kudos: 24





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> I understand this story may be slow at first, but I will be putting warnings as it gets closer to what I promise will be very violence-intensive story. For those who may be uncomfortable with this, I suggest paying attention to any chapters I will be marking as (NSFW). This can go for the chapter containing sexually explicit themes, violent or torturous scenes, themes of suicide or self harm, or other mature situations that may not be suitable for all audiences. Though I am not there yet, I assure you that this story will contain all of the aforementioned themes. I will be sure to include this warning at the beginning of EVERY chapter. Thank you for reading!

The bright, circling red lights illuminated droplets of rain, making each individual sprinkle look like blood in the dull, dreary, and grey sky. The drops crashed onto the ground in indistinguishable patterns, creating a patter to fully set the upsetting scene they soaked. Police stood around in coats, their feet splashing in the collecting mud with each step they took around the crime scene. Familiar yellow warning tape lined the perimeters, which only drew attention from the media. News teams, journalists, and reporters clad with microphones and journals lined up around the tape to the officer's dismay, their voices and questions clambering over each other. It only added more stress to the already intense situation, leaving the policemen in frustration as they tried to get everyone to leave the scene.

"She was found by a hiker at approximately 7:30 this morning. Just like all the others - teeth bashed in, and skinned alive." An officer explained to the tanned man with deep, emerald green eyes. His name was Nabil Astafei, most characterized by his unkempt stubble, unruly, curly brown hair, and two dark bags to suggest a lack of sleep. He was a detective, an intelligent man who had been working with the police for years, yet so far he had been stumped. Nabil kneeled down next to a lump under a blanket, carefully removing the cover. He grimaced at the sight before him, what was once the body of a young woman was now unrecognizable. Her skin was gone, leaving behind a bloody mess of muscle, tendon, and bone. There were no teeth, and the skin was no where in sight. The mud had covered the entire back of the body, making it even more of a mess to look at.

"Have the forensics teams looked at - it - yet?" Nabil questioned with a frown, gently placing the blanket back over the body as if tucking in a child gently. It was no easy task to look at a body like that, how someone could do something so sick and cruel was a mystery he couldn't piece together. "No, Detective." The officer sighed,"They're on their way to take the body back for lab tests." He informed, watching with interest as Nabil looked around the scene. As usual, there was no physical marking of who had been there, if anybody. There were no footprints, or if they were they had been washed away by the rain, disappearing into the mud. The body was found a ways from the park, dumped on the side of the road in a small forest that hikers often explored. Whoever did it wanted the body to be found, but carefully made their assurance that they would remain a mystery.

Soon Nabil was back at the police station, the rain still pounded on the windows and doors, but those inside were shielded from it in the brightly lit building. Phones and chatter could be heard as you walked inside, as well as the kind greeting from the receptionist. Nabil made his way to the break room, running a tired hand through his wet hair. He went straight for the coffee, pouring himself a purely black cup and enjoying it as bitter as could be. That's how he always liked it, he didn't see the reason to tarnish the pure flavor of caffeine with sugars and creams. The case ran through his head intensely as he tried to calm himself down, there was no way for him to switch his brain off, even temporarily.

"Astafei." A voice erupted from the normal noises of the office. A tall man entered the break room, a calm smile on his face. Austin was the police chief, and one of Nabil's few superiors. He could easily put on a kind persona, but Austin was as crooked as could be. No one dared call him out, though, with his tie ins with illegal underground societies and his obnoxious amount of wealth. Nabil turned around to face him, his skin was copper much like Nabil's own, but he seemed much more intimidating. Austin was attractive surely, with two brown eyes and slicked back brown hair, it was hard not to admit it. "Have you made advancements on the case?" He asked impatiently, eyeing Nabil to pry an honest answer from him.

"No, not recently." Nabil admitted, a tone of frustration hidden in his voice. He had been working on the case for months now, but there was nothing to go on. They weren't dealing with just anyone, whoever was committing the murders was an intelligent person. "I need to review the case notes-" Nabil was cut off by Austin before he could finish his thoughts. "I want you to meet someone." He gestured out of the break room and began walking, to which Nabil wearily followed.

"This is Mr. O'Connor." Austin introduced as they came back to the reception area. A young man sat in the waiting chairs, a tall, lanky, and skinny individual with fiery red hair. Though it was more tamed than Nabil's, there was still a curl in his short hair. His dull, green eyes were framed with a pair of tortoiseshell patterned glasses, sitting perched on his long, but narrow nose. "He is a very reputable private investigator from Washington. We've hired him to take in the case with you." Austin informed, to Nabil's dismay. He didn't need a partner, hiring someone just because they were reputable didn't mean he could solve anything Nabil didn't already know.

"Allen." The redhead corrected. His voice was thickly wrapped in an Irish accent, which could explain where the bright red hair came from. "You can just call me Allen."

"It's been raining lot." The young boy sighed, looking up at the sky as he carefully held the umbrella over his head. When he heard no response, his eyes darted to his friend, seeming quite out of it as always. Malcolm let out a soft laugh, smiling to himself fondly. It was no surprise he was distracted, the boy rarely paid attention to what was surrounding him. Should it have been out of anxiety, or his mind being wrapped around his twisted world, it was impossible to know what was going on in the mind of Fabius Morgans. He was the son of the mayor, along with his brother, Lucius - but Fabius was far from the idealistic son most mayors wanted. His hair was jet black, once a carefully managed bowl cut - to his dismay - though now it had begun to grow to the length of his eyes. Those two, silvery grey eyes that he hid behind the thick curtain of black hair. His skin was as pale as paper, untouched by blemishes, like a carefully kept porcelain doll.

Fabius was an interesting kid. Despite being in high school, his body resembled more of a 13 year old due to medical issues he had when he was a child. He was skinny, and stood at about 5'5". He was quiet, rarely even opening up to Malcolm who was his closest friend. Some would say he tried too hard to be edgy, or to be creepy, hanging out in the cemetery and always reading up on serial killers. "You okay?" Malcolm smiled, gently nudging Fabius to get his attention. Fabius glanced at him blankly, or so he would assume. Sometimes it was hard to tell with his hair.

"I'm fine." He sighed, sounding withdrawn as he glanced back ahead. They took this walk home from school almost every day, their town wasn't necessarily the safest and anybody knew there was safety in numbers. Maybe two teenagers weren't necessarily the most intimidating bunch, though. Malcolm sighed and nodded, hesitantly tearing his eyes from Fabius. He worried about him - anyone would, but there was nothing he could do. As long as he replied once, Malcolm supposed it was normal for him. "Well, I'll see you tomorrow." He said in a farewell, stepping away from Fabius and towards the walkway to his house. "Be careful, okay?" There was worry laced in Malcolm's voice, he always seemed motherly in a strange way - maybe it was just that he cared about everyone. Fabius nodded in understanding, receiving a soft smile from Malcolm before he spun on his heel and headed inside, leaving Fabius alone. Malcolm would've offered him his umbrella, but Fabius denied it every time in the past.

The skinny boy stood still for a moment, watching as Malcolm disappeared inside his house, as if he didn't know what to do. It didn't take long for his black and white striped sweater to grow heavy on him, soaking up each droplet of water that fell on it. Despite the sweater being large on him, and thick like a nice blanket - the rain soaked right through. It soaked past each individual thread and began to touch the pale skin underneath. The cold water caressed his skin, sending chills down his spine. Droplets landed on his face, rolling down and leaving it wet, open to only get colder and colder.

But that didn't really matter, Fabius thought the cold was comforting.


	2. Chapter Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is SFW

"At around 4 this evening, another body was discovered. Fabius Morgans, one of the mayor's sons, found the body disposed of on the side of Hollow Drive, heading towards the cemetery." The TV explained, a finely dressed reporter interviewing the crime scene as others watched safely, and comfortably from their couch. "Police are investigating, however speculation says this body was mutilated in a very similar fashion to another discovered on a hillside earlier this week as well as two others within the past month. Much like the bodies from last year. Police continue to discover notes left on the tombstones of the deceased victims after their funeral, a memoir from the killer... Townsfolk begin to worry that this is the work of a serial murderer, who has acquired the name 'The Mannequin Killer'."

"That's enough." Lucius sighed, flipping off the TV with a frown. He glanced to his side with worry to Malcolm, who had come over as soon as he heard the news. Lucius and Fabius's parents were out of town for the time being, but having a close friend at his side helped Lucius feel more comfortable. Lucius was a beautiful boy, who had recently began to cross dress when he had the opportunity, though kept it secret from his parents. His hair was black like his brother's, and being grown out. It was only shoulder length by now. His skin was pale, blemish free, though much tanner than his brothers since he spent more time outside. They had occasionally been called twins, though Lucius was two years older and - arguably prettier. Not that it occurred to him in such a way. He always acted lovingly and protectively towards Fabius. He wouldn't compare himself to him.

"Have you checked on him?" Malcolm questioned as he eyed Lucius, glancing to the ceiling as if gesturing to Fabius's room upstairs. Rain hit the windows hard, much as it had been doing all week, even when the previous body was found. Though all the lights in the room were on, the dark grey sky outside still cast dreariness into the home. Or maybe that was just the severity of the situation at hand. "I've tried." Lucius admitted with a sigh,"If I offer him food, he says he's not hungry, if I ask if he's okay he says he's fine. It's the same thing he always does... I can't tell if it bothers him or not." Lucius admitted. Perhaps Fabius purposefully acted unbothered, after all he had a history of reading about the worlds most popular serial killers - Ed Gein, John Wayne Gacy... he acted hateful and scary, and isolated himself, but deep down it had to bother him. Especially seeing such a gruesome sight. The skinned body of a woman, thrown on the ground. Bloodied mouth with all the teeth torn out, covered in mud and unidentifiable.

"The police should be coming to talk to him soon. I'm worried he won't even say anything." Lucius expressed, rubbing his temple in frustration. "He didn't even call them. He texted me - I had to call them." Lucius frowned and looked at his nails. The polish was chipping - he had been biting them again. He worried a lot about his brother, but he was at a loss of what to do. Fabius wouldn't open up or talk to anyone, he read strange books no one else his age would even bother with and had an interest in such dark things, but maybe it was normal. Maybe he was like other kids, just not like any other kids they knew. "He's gonna be fine." Malcolm assured, gently taking Lucius's hand for comfort. "He'll open up when the police show up. They're probably used to withdrawal from the people who discover bodies." Malcolm wasn't totally sure, but it was better to reassure oneself rather than dwell on what could make them more anxious.

"Can you believe they think it's a serial killer?" Lucius asked in disbelief, an attempt to change the subject, but the only things he could think about were what was going on locally. "They have no leads, no idea who could be doing all of it... they just have to wait for whoever it is to slip up. That means more and more kidnappings and murders... just hoping they mess up." He let out another shaky sigh, receiving a soft shoulder rub from Malcolm. Lucius forced on a small smile in thanks to Malcolm, he really couldn't function without him sometimes. "Let's think about something else, okay? You'll drive yourself crazy." Malcolm insisted, turning on the couch to better face Lucius. The boy nodded in agreement, but he really had no idea what they could discuss.

After another thirty minutes or so, there was a knock on the living room door. Lucius shot Malcolm a quick glance before standing up and heading over to it. Out of paranoia he quickly peered through the peephole, finally opening the door when he saw it was the detectives. Three men stood in the door, two unfamiliar, and one very familiar. "Come in," Lucius immediately opened the door farther to let them all in, his cheeks reddening a bit at the short glance he received from Austin. He was no stranger. "You're Lucius, right? The one who called about the body?" Nabil questioned as he glanced around the house, offering up a hand with a kind smile. "I'm Detective Astafei." He greeted, shaking Lucius's hand gently. Despite his somewhat burly appearance, Nabil was quite a softie. "This is Detective O'Connor, and Austin Laquris." He finished, his voice soft as if comforting him. Allen gave Lucius a small nod, while Austin had quite an amused smirk on his face that only made Lucius more red.

"Yes - but I didn't find the body. My brother did." He explained, understanding that the circumstances were a bit abnormal. "Did you see it?" Allen questioned immediately after, which didn't seem to sit right with Nabil. "No - no. He texted me about it. I think he wasn't really sure what to do. I called for him. No one was there with him." He explained, rubbing his arms nervously.

"It's okay." Nabil smiled,"A lot of people panic in those sorts of situations. Where is he?" Nabil asked, watching as Lucius pointed to the stairs and began leading them to Fabius's room. "He's just in his room, like usual. He hasn't talked to anyone since he got home, but it's normal for him." Lucius sounded defeated as he talked about it, stopping in front of one of the doors in the hallway. The house was large, understandably so since their family was high in politics, and only trying to get higher. "Do you mind if Mr. Laquris stays downstairs with you? We don't want to overwhelm him." Allen suggested, shortly before Austin turned on his heel and headed back down the hallway, giving Lucius no option in the matter. Allen took a step forward and gently knocked on the door, waiting patiently for a few moments before it opened.

Inside was undoubtedly a teenagers room, black walls, posters, and the only illumination came from red Christmas lights strung around haphazardly. Fabius glanced between the two men, not saying a word. "I'm Detective Astafei, this is Detective O'Connor." Nabil repeated from earlier, softly smiling at Fabius, though it didn't seem as effective on him. "Can we ask you a few questions about the body you found earlier today?"

Fabius let out a soft groan and opened the door more, heading back to his bed to sit down and wait out the little interview. Nabil and Allen exchanged a short glance before entering completely. "Cool room." Allen grumbled nonchalantly as he walked around a bit, examining every book and cranny with extreme precision. It seemed like he was looking for nothing, but anyone who knew him knew better. Nabil took a seat in Fabius's desk chair, squeezing his clipboard in preparation to ask questions. It was always hard to know where to start, he could never really tell whether or not they would want to talk about it at all. He began with a few initial, simple questions before finally getting into other things.

"We know about when and where you found the body. How was it looking when you found it?" Nabil finally asked, his voice soft to try and coax Fabius into answering. When police arrived on the scene it looked exactly the same as any other, but he wanted to be sure nothing had happened to it.

"Like all the others." Fabius responded, his voice monotonous and unaffected. "It was just kind of a red mess." He explained, receiving a nod from Nabil as he wrote it down. "Was there anyone else around when you found it? Any cars you saw passing? Anyone else at the cemetery?" Nabil asked as Allen leaned against the opposite wall, eyeing Fabius intensely as if scanning him. "No. It was just me." Fabius answered, no faltering in his voice, nor any hesitation to his answers. There was no reason to make anything up, after all.

Despite questioning for a good ten minutes, Nabil only wound up with answers he had already heard before. It was nothing new, they were in the same place they had been before. "Alright - well, thank you for your time." He sighed as he stood up, waving Allen away from the wall before they left the room completely. Fabius watched their exit before laying back down in his bed, opening up his phone to continue to read one of many articles on the Mannequin Killer.


	3. Chapter Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is SFW.

Fabius Morgans sat towards the back of the classroom, a familiar and typical sight. His hands held the lightly crumpled edges of a note, squeezing tightly as he watched the teacher give a lecture over... something he wasn't quite paying attention to. A few weeks has passed since he had seen a dead body for the first time, though there was still the occasional student who tried to talk to him about it - whether they were demanding or kind, Fabius did nothing more than completely ignore them. He did it with everyone, though, save for Malcolm on occasion. It wasn't that he didn't want to think about it, in fact, he recently found himself diving down into countless articles on the murders. Apart from all the questioning, whether it be from police or curious students, finding a body relating to a series of murders was - exhilarating. He was a part of the case now, he could read articles on a serial killer and his name would be in them. He imagined this was how people who were in newspapers felt.

Soon the bell rang, the teacher - though better known as Mr. Bonaparte - helplessly protested students as they immediately stood up and rushed off into the hallway. It was the last period of the day, which was only more reason for students rush to get out before the teacher could assign that night's homework, or before they could hear it anyways. The teacher let out a frustrated sigh and sat at his desk, ignoring the last few students in the room as they slowly began to pack up, talking calmly to each other. Fabius stuffed the crumpled note into his backpack and slung it lazily over his shoulder. It was light, but that was because he didn't keep very much inside. His phone, maybe a folder or two, and a few trinkets that weren't necessarily school-related. Everything else was shoved into his locker in a messy fashion, majority being poetry and books over murder - unsurprisingly.

As usual, Malcolm was waiting nearby to walk home with Fabius. Everything went as routine, like it had for the past few years. Malcolm asked how his day was, even if he knew it would receive no answer. He may say a few more things before they had to say goodbye, and rarely would Fabius muster a reply. Somehow they had formed a friendship that way, even if it was far from ideal. It was Wednesday. No bodies had been found since the one he found. Malcolm still showed concern about the subject, specifically if seeing such a gruesome sight troubled Fabius... it still didn't seem to. Or at least Fabius could hide it well, which he had proven to be true in the past. Malcolm knew both he and Lucius wanted to get the boy into a proper counselor, and it wasn't just because of the body. They worried about Fabius, certain habits he had, harmful ones. Despite how many times they expressed wanting to get him help, he showed an aggressive retaliation at the idea.

Before long, Fabius and Malcolm parted ways once again. Malcolm headed inside while Fabius continued his walk - though it wasn't home. Fabius instead made his way to the mall. It was the last place he would typically want to go, but much like any other teenager like him, Fabius would occasionally stop by stores like Hot Topic or Spencer's. He often hated being characterized with other people that went to those stores, as if trying to avoid stereotypes, but he had just gotten some money. Fabius usually quickly looked around and got out as soon as possible, usually buying nothing more than a shirt to sleep in with a character from a horror movie on it.

Fabius arrived at the shop, almost feeling relieved the lights were so dim. No one was really in there, besides a cashier and a group of teenagers dressed in neon and black, laughing among each other joyously as they browsed. There was a moment Fabius watched with a hidden envy, but he forced himself to look away and browse alone. Shirts lined the walls, mostly with familiar bands and characters from shows and movies that he didn't recognize. Fabius bit his lip, his hand tugging at one of his backpack straps anxiously. After a moment he decided on a shirt to buy. His parents would disapprove of it, surely, though that was why he only wore them to sleep. Fabius looked over the shirt sizes, his eyes immediately darting to the smalls and extra-smalls - but his hand went for the medium.

Fabius headed to the cashier with a silent sigh, placing the shirt onto the counter. He glanced up at the cashier before him, biting the inside of his cheek as he eyed him. It was no surprise why he had a job at such a pathetic place - the man was pierced and tattooed beyond belief. Sure, he wasn't conventionally attractive, but Fabius couldn't help but look him over a time or two. He must've been in his early thirties, tall and slender - Fabius couldn't tell if he was athletic or not. He looked extremely intimating, but that was intriguing to Fabius. His face was narrow, his jawline sharp. Both his ears were lined with piercings, sticking out pointed in every direction, piercing every bit of skin they could - even a pair of large gauges were at the lobe, stretching them.

His face was no exception - bridge piercings, nose piercings, septum, snakebites, eyebrow, medusa, dimple... some Fabius couldn't even name. Some he didn't even know existed. Even the man's hair was a sight to see, shaved on either side, though left long on the top, dyed a dark, near blackish purple. It was pulled back into a bun while he worked, but Fabius could only imagine the strange things he did to it outside of his dead-end-job. Even his eyes were hidden behind a pair of blackout contacts, like he was trying to hide his actual appearance from the world. Fabius's eyes flickered down to his name tag, 'Harvey' was written on it lazily.

The man took the shirt and scanned, a scowl adorning his face as if he just wanted the world to know how much he hated working there. Fabius couldn't help but think that made him even more captivating. As he examined him, Fabius took notice to the two leather gloves he wore, which when paired with long sleeves hid every part of his arm. He shifted his position, placing his hands on the counter as he turned his eyes away to focus on something else, anything besides the attractive cashier. After only a few more moments, the quiet ding sounded. Harvey shoved the shirt into a plastic bag and placed it onto the counter, pausing for a moment. Fabius would've expected him to be waiting for the receipt, but even when it came out the man was stilled. Because his eyes were hidden behind contacts, Fabius couldn't tell that he what he was looking at.

The cashier stared intently for a few good seconds, his breath seeming to hitch on occasion as he examined every nook and cranny of the pale boy's bony hands. They were white enough to see the blue veins underneath, skinny enough that each bone and tendon was visible through the thin skin. His wrist jutted out sharply, but it was hidden just beneath the sleeve on his sweater. Just enough to hide it. The cashier seemed entranced by them up until Fabius removed them from the counter - he didn't say anything, but the man almost seemed annoyed because of it. Without any explanation, he picked up the receipt and placed it in the bag, sliding it towards Fabius in an irked manner.

Fabius took the bag, eyeing the cashier for a moment. Whether he was put off, confused, or intrigued was a complete mystery, but he felt that it was the last. He gave him one last glance over, admiring the tattoos on his neck that were just barely visible from beneath his clothes, the piercings in his face that made him look like a human pin cushion, but in the best way possible. He figured that was who the group of girls in the store had been giggling relentlessly over, Fabius didn't really blame them. Hesitantly, he left the store, his mind dawdling over the strange encounter. He tried to brush it off for the time being. He told himself it was just how late in the day it was, the man probably needed coffee. Fabius wrapped the excess of the plastic bag tightly around his hand out of habit before continuing his walk, ignoring the slight tingle in his fingers that the bag caused. He didn't really want to go home yet - so he derailed himself to the only other place he cared to go - the cemetery, of course.


	4. Chapter Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is NSFW. 
> 
> Sexual themes.

It had been a slow, dreary month. The days progressively got colder if they weren't already, and the skies began to blacken early in the day. There was no doubt that winter was approaching quickly, especially by the thin frost that covered grass every morning. It was Friday, students were practically jumping from their seats to get home and enjoy their weekends. It was on occasion that Malcolm couldn't walk home with Fabius - well, he could, but Fabius refused his offer and Malcolm would stay to watch his boyfriend in swim practice. Usually Fabius would actually spend Friday's with people, albeit they were strangers to him. Today he didn't have any plans, he merely began his walk home like a normal student might.

Recently, things felt different - it specifically started a few days ago when he had been reading beneath a tree there. Maybe he was overthinking it, or maybe he made a mistake, but on one of the gravestones was a note. Recently this had been common, but usually the cops were the first to discover them. The local killer had created somewhat of a name because of this. After skinning his victims and dumping their bodies, a note would show up on their gravestone when they were finally buried. At least assuming they were. There was always the possibility the note was from a loved one to the dead, but Fabius had been too curious to ignore it. He checked at the note, placed strategically across from the bench like it was intended to be found by him. That idea seemed only more realistic when he read the note addressed to 'the pale skinned boy'. 

Maybe he was just hopeful. In a strange way, he romanticized the idea of having a serial killer focus on him like that. It wouldn't be a first, either. Especially recently, he would stay up late reading about the mysterious Mannequin Killer, think about conversations they could share, ways he could pour his heart out to the twisted killer - he could even pleasure himself to the thought of it. It was beyond twisted, even he knew that. Seeing an actual note almost seemed like the world was mocking him - until he found another the next day.

Now, he couldn't help but feel uneasy. For the most part he ignored it and passed it off as nothing more than his anxiety, his mind lingering on the strange notes for too long. Somewhere, deep inside, he was thinking rationally. He knew he should've given the notes to the police, but he couldn't. He treasured them. He stared at them until he lost track of time, reading over each word like it was vintage poetry. It almost seemed written in that way, like an old love letter of admiration. It just didn't seem like it was about Fabius, even if it was addressed to him. He couldn't wrap his mind around it as desperately as he tried, he just ended up thinking about the letter all day. Usually his mind would drift off, fantasize about the man writing them. He imagined bloodied hands, gripping a pen tightly as he mulled over each and every word carefully. That's what Fabius wanted to think it was. He could make himself blush at the thought, entertain and arouse himself as he furthered into this strange fantasy world he had created because of a few letters.

Fabius took slow steps as he made his way home, trying to prolong the walk for as long as he could. His mind was clouded by so much that it had become hard to think. Only when he heard tire on gravel did he turn his head, noticing a car a few yards away. It was some small, cheap, and old car, Fabius didn't dwell on it for long. He looked up once again, glancing around as he walked. Buildings stood out against the white sky, an occasional droplet of water falling from the gutters and onto the sidewalk. Every time Fabius exhaled, a short cloud escaped him due to the frigid air, but it soon disappeared. He glanced back once again, noticing that the car was still there, driving slowly. He concluded it probably belonged to an older individual, cautiously navigating the roads at too slow of a speed. Judging by how old the vehicle looked, it wasn't exactly far fetched. He let out a cold breath and quickened his pace, at least the sooner he got home, the sooner he could sit down and think.

Fabius finally arrived home, ignoring any comments from his parents as he headed straight to his bedroom, closing the door behind him. He dropped his backpack and collapsed onto his bed face down. For a moment he just laid still, furrowing his brows as all the thoughts abruptly rushed back to him. The notes - he felt the sudden urge just to touch them again, to read them. Thinking about it alone made his cheeks flush and his heart thud. Without much waiting, Fabius rolled over and sat up, digging the notes from his backpack. Unlike everything school related, the notes were carefully placed away, no wrinkles nor tears on the edges, besides what they had when he found them. He let out an uneven breath, running his finger over the letter on top as if trying to caress the man who wrote it. Fabius knew better than this, but he couldn't help himself. Seeing the letters had become like a drug, every time he looked over them he found himself imagining what the killer writing them must've been like. He imagined what he did to the bodies, before or after they were dead. The longer he thought, the more his mind wandered, the warmer and warmer his cheeks got.

Fabius's breath had become uneasy, his hands squeezing the letter more as he reread each word with excitement. He lost track of how many times he had read it by now, or whether or not he was even reading it anymore. At this point he was so lost in his fantasy he wasn't sure. He could almost imagine a cold knife pressed against his skin, the serial killer staring down at him - he didn't mind the thought one bit. He laid back into his bed, pressing the letters to his chest and rubbing his legs together. He closed his eyes, his legs shaking as he blocked out anything around him just to imagine what it may have been like. Fabius moved his hand downward, pressing his palm impatiently into his crotch.

Fabius quickly glanced to the door, he had just gotten home, but he wanted nothing more right now than to think of the serial killer he had become so obsessed with. He gulped and bit his lip, once again closing his eyes to begin to fantasize as he pushed his pants and underwear down just enough. His mind was already racing with strange scenarios he had put together for him and a man he didn't even know, and as he imagined each scene he began to slowly stroke himself. He wasn't necessarily big - in fact, considering he was quiet scrawny, his size was pretty expected. He pressed the letters down onto his chest until it ached, listening to the quiet crinkle of the paper, imagining that a serial killer's hands had once touched them. His cheeks flushed more and more, his hand quickening it's pace. His free hand moved from the letter's to his mouth, biting down on his sleeve so he could muffle himself and avoid any questions from his parents.

The busy hand squeezed and rubbed inconsistently with excitement, it was hard to pace himself when such vulgar, but arousing thoughts wouldn't leave his mind. His hand was already becoming slightly sticky, though if anything it aided the process of rubbing himself, just by making it slicker. the dirtier his thoughts became, the quicker his hand would move - and before long he began to feel the build-up of pressure accumulate at the base of his spine. Fabius's cheeks were burning hot his hands slightly shaking as he arched his back expressively. The mixture of feelings abruptly built up, a few more thoughts racing through his mind before they all began to dissipate.

Fabius let out a shaky sigh as he reached his climax, slowly releasing his sleeve from his mouth and moving his other hand away from his crotch. After a few moments of regaining himself, he pulled up his pants again and sat up, examining his hand to see the mess he made. It wasn't the first time, not even to the though of the serial killer. Fabius pushed off the bed and shakily stand up, still feeling the weakness in his legs. He glanced out the window in hos room, his mind being drawn away from what just happened, and instead towards a shape outside. He moved closer, pushing open one of the blinds to get a better look. In confusion, Fabius examined the familiar, old car that sat outside near their house, illuminated by a single streetlight.


	5. Chapter Five

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is slightly NSFW. 
> 
> Implied pressuring into sexual acts.

He wouldn't have suddenly stopped." Nabil muttered in frustration, rubbing his temple as Allen boredly threw a stress ball at the wall, catching it as it came back to him. He seemed so carefree, so calm with the situation, meanwhile Nabil had been fretting all morning. As of late, there was nothing found having to do with the Mannequin Killer. Yes, it was great in that no bodies were being found, however it also meant that they wouldn't get any new leads until something did happen. There were no notes, no missing person reports, all that was left to prove the killer ever existed were the painful losses of women, their families left to mourn them.

"Why aren't you bothered by this?" Nabil questioned, frustration clear in his voice as he hit the stress ball away from Allen. The redhead glanced at Nabil, shrugging nonchalantly. "We weren't getting any closer anyways. This gives us more time to interrogate and review the evidence we already have." He leaned down to pick up the stress ball from the floor, once again tossing it to the wall and catching it to create a steady rhythm.

"We won't get closer because there's no more evidence. If he isn't out dropping off bodies, then he's probably doing something even more twisted." Nabil argued, drumming his fingers on the table to ignore the sound of the ball as it was thrown back and forth. "How are we supposed to interrogate anyone if we have no idea who it could be? We've interviewed family members, grave-tenders, suspects - won't you stop throwing that damn thing?!" He glared at the Irishman, who promptly caught the ball and averted his eyes to his work partner. Respectfully, he lowered his hand and didn't throw the ball again.

"We can go house by house and interrogate people." Allen stated plainly, receiving a scoff from Nabil. "The town is small, but not that small. Even if we had groups of officers interrogating every house, it would take days to get through everyone." He leaned back in his swivel chair and sent Allen a small glare of frustration. It was the least efficient thing to do right now, yet Allen seemed so confident in the idea.

"We have days, don't we?" Allen responded, tossing the ball to Nabil shortly he stood up.

Fabius sat boredly under the shade of a tree, wondering to himself why he would've agreed to this. Lucius and Malcolm talked together merrily, enjoying the wonderful weather in the small park. It was chilly out still, with winter approaching, yet the sun was still shining. They had thought it was perfect weather to enjoy the day, and suggested Fabius spend some time out of his room as well.

Fabius couldn't forgive himself for thinking they might be right.

He had a book, but one he wasn't too interested in reading. Plus, with all of the noise around him - the laughing children, adults chatting, leaves gently rustling - he just couldn't focus. His eyes scanned the crowds, looking for any interesting individuals. Maybe it was him seeing what he wanted to see, but lately, Fabius thought he had spotted a familiar face a few times, anywhere he went. Maybe familiar face was the wrong term - he had only seen the man once before. The cashier who he had the strange encounter with. It was hard to mistake him for anyone, he had a pretty unique face with all of the piercings in it. It must've been coincidence, Fabius convinced himself of that.

Then he spotted him. He felt like his heart lurched, and not in a good way. Maybe once it was nice seeing such a handsome face, but the more he saw it, the less coincidental it was. The more it terrified him. He stared in silence at that gaunt face, the cashier sitting on the bench quite a ways away. Fabius glanced to Lucius and Malcolm, but of course they didn't notice the man, what was there to notice? It was just like anyone else, except he was staring at Fabius. At least that was what Fabius was assuming. He was probably paranoid, or flattering himself, but he couldn't help but wonder. Every time he looked forward he was there, like his eyes were digging holes into Fabius' skull. It made his heart thud, it drove him up the wall.

Fabius abruptly got up, leaving the scene with some shakiness in his knees. Lucius tried to ask where he was going, but received no answer from his brother. Fabius made his way to the restrooms, they weren't much and people only used them if it was an emergency, but Fabius just wanted to calm down. He knew he was being unreasonable, he figured he was having an anxiety attack because of how many people were at the park. When Fabius finally got inside, he was relieved to find no one else inside.

Despite it being a nice park, the bathrooms were unsurprisingly lackluster. They weren't absolutely disgusting, but the lights didn't illuminate much and water dripped off of something in a repetitive pattern. Fabius made his way to the farthest stall, slinking in and locking the stall door with a sigh. He leaned against the wall, though it may not have been the most sanitary thing in the world. He could hear his heart as it beat in his chest, luckily it was slowly beginning to calm back down as he separated himself from the crowd. The chatter outside was muffled by the walls, leaving the sound of dripping water and a the steady hum of fluorescent lights to fill the restroom.

Fabius lost track of time, but it couldn't have been too long before he heard the door quietly creak and shut. Heavy, but slow footsteps gave away where the stranger was, though it didn't occur to Fabius to even listen to them. At least, not until he heard them stop. Fabius lifted his head from where he had it leaned back and opened his eyes, peering through the cracks between the stall door - and immediately noticing the dark silhouette behind it. His eyes trailed down, spotting the two large feet clad in black shoes, right in front of the stall door. Fabius's heart jumped into his throat, he couldn't do much besides stare for a moment.

Carefully, Fabius reached out and gripped the lock on the bathroom door, holding it closed out of paranoia. He kept his hand as still as possible, as if trying to convince the man on the other side that no one was in the stall. He grit his teeth, a lump growing in his throat as he tried his best to breathe quietly. Fabius could've easily been overreacting, there was plenty of possiblity that he was just checking the stall to see if it was empty, but it wasn't the first time Fabius had been so terrified in this situation before.

It was in elementary school, he was just a kid then. Fabius remembered exactly how the shoes looked, exactly what words he said. He had been hiding in a stall from a few kids who got a kick out of bullying him, practically crying because he thought he would never be able to leave. He could hear them making cruel comments right outside of the stall - but that wasn't what bothered him. What bothered him came after. A teacher came in and chased the kids away, and stood right outside of the stall.

He made such strange comments, said such weird things. Things that at the time Fabius didn't understand. He kept convincing him to open the stall door, giving him nicknames that made him feel comfortable. Of course Fabius opened the door.

At some point, Fabius has shut his eyes tightly again. His hand was white with how forcefully he held the door locked, even if the stranger on the other side wasn't trying to get in. In fact, he wasn't trying anything. He just stood there quietly, he didn't move a muscle or say a word. There were no footsteps and the door never opened. He was still standing there, like he knew how it bothered Fabius. Like he wanted to torture him. Fabius's breathing was hitched, he felt like he was on the verge of suffocating. Every breath was staggered and he felt like it was incredibly loud. He repeated the same words in his head, over and over, hoping that maybe it could fix the situation. He felt helpless, his knees felt weak and his chest felt tight.

Please leave. Please leave. Please leave. Please leave. Please leave. Please leave.

Thought it had only been a few moments, Fabius felt like an hour had passed before the footsteps slowly began to retreat. The door opened, and shut, leaving Fabius alone in the bathroom once again. He nervously pushed open the stall door, looking around the bathroom as if someone may have still been in there - but no one was. After a moment of regaining himself, Fabius somehow managed to leave the stall, and then the restroom all together.

The sun felt obnoxiously bright as soon as Fabius opened the door, the chatter immediately filled his ears like nothing had even happened. He felt safe again. Fabius made his way back to Lucius and Malcolm, yearning for their comforting and familiar presence. He just wanted to be around people he knew, seeing Lucius's familiar smile when he spotted him just felt - nice. As Fabius took his seat next to his brother again, he looked up, letting his eyes scan the benches a little further away.

And right across from them, there was an empty bench.


	6. Chapter Six

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is SFW.

"I'll see you Monday." Malcolm said as Fabius left his house, giving him no more than a small wave. The day had finally come to its end, leaving the streetlights and the occasional headlights as the only illumination in the dark night. Fabius was leaving Malcolm's house from a study session, he hadn't realized just how late it had gotten. He made his way back home, the cold air nipping at his skin as he squinted to see better in the darkness. The streets were never busy at this time of night, perhaps once or twice you would spot a car on it's way home, or a passerby taking a late night stroll.

Spending most of his day with Malcolm felt better. It seemed to help him get over his anxiety about being followed a bit, or it just made him forget that he ever even had it. For a while he was able to walk in peace, slowing his footsteps as his mind began to wander vacantly. His hand gripped onto his backpack strap, shortly before he stopped at a crosswalk. Though it showed a no crossing sign, there were no cars coming - he didn't really care to specifically avoid it. Fabius quickly made his way over it, he just wanted to get home and go to bed at this point.

It had been perhaps ten minutes of walking before Fabius began to feel uncomfortable. With each step he took, his legs felt weak and his chest hurt. He sped up the pace, but it didn't seem to help - especially as he took notice to the extra pair of footsteps that didn't blend in with Fabius's own. The familiar sensation of anxiety crept up his neck, he felt like he was walking in slow motion despite the fact it was actually a pretty fast walk. Though Fabius didn't dare to look behind him, he could tell the steps were catching up, getting closer to their spot directly behind him. Fabius swung his bag closer to him, carefully reaching in and searching as non-obviously as possible. He wrapped his hand tightly around a small, cylindrical object, feeling his nerves work up more and more with every step they got closer to him. They were following him.

Fabius thought he could feel the stranger who was following him directly behind him, practically breathing down his neck. He gulped nervously, his hand shaking until he finally pulled it out. Fabius quickly turned around and held out the small container of pepper spray, pressing down on the nozzle with one hand, while the other quickly fled to cover his own face. Fabius kept the spray going for a few good seconds, listening to the yell that erupted very quickly after he initially pressed it. He let out a few soft breaths, carefully removing his hand to see whoever had been following him...

And it was just some complete stranger. On his way home.

The man cursed and cried as he held both his hands over his face, leaving Fabius to stare in shock and guilt. He slowly lowered his hand, which was only beginning to quiver again. He tried to apologize, but no words actually left his mouth even if it was moving. Fabius shook his head to himself, feeling his chest tighten more, but this time it was because of what he had done. After taking a few scared steps away, Fabius turned on his heel and quickly rushed home, wanting to smack himself for overreacting so quickly like he just had.

The pepper spray was hidden down in Fabius's bag once again. He desperately tried to forget that he abruptly harmed someone who didn't even intend to scare him, but the thought was always there. He knew he deserved to feel terrible about it, the poor man was just in the wrong place at the wrong time. By the time he finally arrived home, his parents were getting ready for bed and wouldn't have even noticed Fabius's late return. He sighed and rubbed his forehead as he made his way up to his bedroom, closing the door as soon as he came inside. He didn't turn on the light, but he very rarely ever did. Instead, Fabius dropped his bag by his side and leaned against the door, closing his eyes as he contemplated what he had done. He hoped it wouldn't be too bad, perhaps the man would get over it quickly and would be left with no damage. Or maybe not.

Fabius ran a hand through his hair and glanced around his room, examining each poster and red Christmas light as if forcing himself to be comforted by the familiar surroundings. He kept reminding himself that however he felt, the stranger must've been feeling much worse. Pepper spray was no joke, and Fabius used a lot of it, all because he was paranoid. He was paranoid about something silly that he knew he was wrong about, yet he still allowed himself to get worked up over nothing. And now he had overreacted and actually harmed someone because of it - just knowing that bothered him.

Fabius let out an upset, shaky sigh, dragging his feet as he walked to the bed and promptly laid down on it. He closed his eyes, preventing tears that were welling from showing themselves. He felt ashamed all because of his anxiety, his paranoia, sure it was reasonable to begin with - but considering a few weeks had passed and nothing had actually happened, he thought it was losing just how reasonable it was. Multiple times he thought he was being stalked, followed, but no real proof or evidence ever reared its head. At this point he was just terrified of his own shadow.

It didn't take long for Fabius to slowly start to drift asleep, his own breathing being a catalyst to make him more and more tired. The guilty thoughts slowly left his head, otherwise they would've eaten at him all night long until he made himself cry with how terrible he felt. It still bothered him that he couldn't even muster up an apology - but that wasn't important now. He slowly fell asleep, feeling his body relax and his chest become less and less tight until he fell into the fragile state between just being awake, and just being asleep.

However, he was quickly ripped from this point. Quiet shuffling sounded, and his eyes quickly opened. There were plenty of possibilities, leaves scratching on his window from outside, or one of their dogs running around abruptly in the night - but Fabius still felt paralyzed with fear. He didn't make a noise, or any movements, and he heard quiet shuffling once again, closer to him than he would've liked. He stared at the ceiling, feeling his heart begin to thud so hard that it was all he could hear. Everything was dark, but he could still make out what looked like a dark, silhouette slowly standing up in his room.


	7. Chapter Seven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is SFW.

Allen O'Connor and Nabil Astafei sat together in a car, outside of an apartment complex. Allen rubbed the bridge of his nose in frustration, his fingers drumming on the wheel as Nabil flipped through case notes. They had been interrogating people by each and every address, yet no one stood out. Plenty of other officers were doing the same, yet still, there was no further information on who the killer may be. 

"We need to get lunch after this." Nabil groaned, letting his head back to hit the headrest. Both of them were stalling on going in the shoddy complex and receiving no more useful information. After a few more moments of them in a comfortable silence, Allen finally sighed and turned the car off, climbing out of it. 

"Already?" Nabil whined, though followed in the same actions. Both detectives made their way into the complex and headed right up to the forst apartment. Allen lifted a hand and knocked heavily, waiting a few moments before a yowl was heard from under the door. They didn't have much time to give each other strange looks before the door open, revealing a darker skinned male with messy black hair. From back in the room, a blonde haired man poked his head out to see who was at the door. 

"Detective Astafei and O'Connor, we're going door to door to ask a few questions - can we come in?" Nabil requested permission, and judging by how the man opened the door more and stepped aside, it was obviously given. Both detectives stepped inside, receiving a smile from the blonde man, his leg was completely wrapped in a cast. The only two obvious signatures on it was 'Auggie' written in large letters, and a small cactus drawn near his toes. And a few scratch marks, which closely resembled a cat's claws. 

"You can take a seat," the other man offered, quickly introducing himself as Vid, and his boyfriend as Ed. Once Allen and Nabil took a seat by each other on a single couch, they began questioning. The questions were pretty typical, such as where either of them were a few nights ago - which was apparently the ER. None of them came up with any interest, and by the time all the questions were asked, they seemed to have just been like every other interviewee. 

Allen tapped a pen against his clipboard thoughtfully, eventually shaking his head with a sigh. "Thank you for the cooperation." He forced a smile and began standing up, though he was knocked back when something quite heavy abruptly hit his stomach. It knocked the breath out of him, and even drew a laugh from Nabil. 

"Oh my god - I'm so sorry-" Vid immediately apologized, rushing forward as Allen glanced down to the fat, yowling, orange cat that made itself comfortable on him. He stared at the chubby cat in shock, he could've sworn he had been hit by a large dog. Vid picked up the cat that seemed to be practically half his size, continuing to apologize over and over again. The orange fluff ball howled and wiggled its back legs, though Vid's hands were holding it directly underneath its front paws - so it really didn't do much help to struggle. Vid shoved the cat into Ed's lap, and it promptly began to bite and grab at his cast, scratching at it with its back legs.

Once again, Allen and Nabil were in their car outside of another house. Nabil was still amused by their previous encounter, though Allen seemed adamant that they drop in. In all his years in this career, he had never been knocked down by a cat. Especially with such force, he didn't know a cat could even be so powerful. "Alright," he finally spoke up, "Last one today." He instructed vaguely before getting out of the car, to which Nabil followed. The house was small and older, and the man who answered the door looked quite startled. He was small in size and only about 32 or so, with short black hair and thick rimmed glasses. He stuttered pretty heavily, but he was probably just nervous that police abruptly appeared at his door. 

It didn't take long for him to let them in - explaining that he had been having a private lesson with one of his students. The student looked to be about a teenager, athletic with long, dirty blonde hair - and he definitely didn't seem happy that they had been interrupted. There was no surprise when Allen and Nabil repeated the same set of questions to the interesting pair, and of course it did no help furthering their research. There were no answers that stood out or seemed to accuse them of wrong doing - the only suspicious actions here revolved around Allen's doubt that the student was actually being tutored. 

"Hours of this shit." Nabil grumbled, glaring at the papers they had wasted time on. All of the driving around, all of the questioning and writing, yet they came up with nothing. "Ease up. You can't actually expect an answer right away. Until the killer makes another move, we have nothing to go off of." Allen retorted, staring out the windshield as they parked on the side of the road. Rain was pouring down, as it had been a lot recently. The sky outside was so dark with rain and grey clouds that it seemed like night had already come. Allen flipped through channels on the radio, listening for any station that caught his attention. Both he and Nabil were both caught up in their own priorities at the moment - but it seemed to suddenly interest them both when one of the radio stations they came across was a reporter in the middle of speaking. 

"... discovered missing just this morning. The family has made many calls and expressed their concern, and the authorities have begun a search for the missing teenager. It's still unknown whether this is a case of someone simply running away from home, or a possible kidnapping. The family expresses great concern and pleads Fabius be returned home safely, and even offers a great sum of money to anyone who can offer possible whereabouts."


	8. Chapter Eight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is NSFW.   
> Contains:  
> References to self harm   
> Abusive language

"What the fuck is this?" A low, rumbly voice growled out. Fabius slowly opened his eyes, but they quickly shut again as he felt something roughly tug on his arm, followed by the voice again, "What the FUCK is this?!" He could feel fingers digging into his arm, holding it firmly with a strong grasp. Fabius felt exhausted, like he couldn't fully open his eyes. When he tried, they eventually drifted shut before he could make sense of the blurry scene before him. 

"I've wasted weeks of my life for this shit?! You can't even keep your god damn eyes open!" Fabius suddenly felt a harsh smack across his cheek, which definitely helped him open his eyes a bit more. It was quickly followed by another, and by then Fabius could make out the familiar face in front of him. The man's hand harshly yanked Fabius's arm up, his gloved hand squeezing it tightly as he directed Fabius's scarred wrist to him. "What the hell have you done? You've completely wasted my time." He growled, dropping Fabius's hand in anger. Fabius tiredly glanced down to it, examining his pale, skinny arm for a moment. The skin was like porcelain, save for the old scars that carelessly littered it. He was so tired. So confused. He didn't know how long he had been asleep or if it was long at all.

"What did you do?" The man asked harshly, Fabius could recognize him now as he began to wake up. He was the cashier, the man Fabius had thought he'd seen so many times, coincidentally. That seemed a lot less like a coincidence now. "I asked you a question." Harvey snapped not long after he asked the initial question. His voice was just getting lower, he sounded absolutely furious. Fabius had no idea what it was about. Everything was so cold. He couldn't tell if he was naked or just freezing - the entire room was dark, but somehow the man seemed illuminated. If he recalled right, he was sure it was Harvey. 

"Answer me." He demanded again, his voice getting even louder with frustration.

"I don't understand-" Fabius replied shakily, his voice was barely audible. It definitely couldn't compare to Harvey's, especially not while he was acting like this. 

"Your wrist. Your wrist is ruined. What the hell did you do to it?" He grit his teeth, knowing the answer was obvious. The boy's arms were littered with scars, mostly faded. He no longer acted upon himself in that particular way, but he wasn't known for having much of a love for himself. "You selfish prick. Ruining something like that. You're useless now, I've wasted all of that fucking time!" Harvey looked down once again to Fabius's arm, but he seemed to get only more angered by looking at it. 

"I would bash your brain in if I knew anyone else had hands like yours." He let out a frustrated sigh, his voice sounded calmer, but it was still deep and menacing. "But they don't. Now I have to waste more of my time on you. Otherwise we could just get this done already and I could end your pathetic life." Harvey stood up, looking down at Fabius with distaste. He looked like a pale bag of bones, thrown onto the floor. Fabius looked up at him fearfully, the pleading look in his eyes just made Harvey feel more disgusted. 

Abruptly, Harvey turned around and left the room. He closed the door loudly behind him, and Fabius could hear his footsteps on the floorboards above him, dust falling from them everytime his feet landed. After a second, the boy looked around nervously. The room was dark, cold, and musty, carrying a foreign metallic scent. The walls and floor were chilled to the touch, so he was led to believe that they were concrete - implying this was probably his basement. Fabius rubbed his arms to try to warm up, quickly glancing down as he felt skin on skin. He didn't wear anything besides his own black boxers, which must've been why he was so cold. His back was pressed up against a cold wall, though his knees were brought up closer to his chest. He had been sitting like that from the moment he woke up. 

Fabius gulped nervously and slowly willed himself to stand up. His knees shook weakly due to his fear of the situation, his heart thudded heavily and deafened him. Fabius held his arm against the wall, balancing himself as he squinted to look around the dark room. A single light on the ceiling illuminated just the middle of it with an ominous yellow tint, flickering frequently with quiet clicks. From somewhere in the room, something was steadily dripping into a puddle. The almost silent splashes seemed amplified by an echo that sounded with each and every noise. Even the occasional and very quiet shuffle of Fabius's feet. Harvey was completely out of earshot by now, and Fabius didn't know when to expect him to come back. If he even planned on coming back.

Fabius felt a sudden jolt of fear when a loud crashing noise sounded - though he quickly recognized it as nothing more than thunder. He couldn't hear the rain pounding the windows upstairs from where he was, but he could only assume it was a heavy storm judging by how loud the thunder had been. He ran his hand across the wall as he slowly walked the rooms perimeter, moving his feet cautiously as if to feel any obstacles before he actually spotted them. Luckily, Fabius didn't run into anything. He quickly came to a short, shabby wooden staircase that led up to the door Harvey had disappeared through. Just looking at the steps, he could tell they would make plenty of noise to alert of his movements. 

Fabius glanced to the door in contemplation, wondering if it would be the worth the risk to leave the room. He wasn't sure what the situation was - but it was obvious that it wasn't a very good one, and he wasn't completely willing to stick around to find out exactly what his captor was wanting. On the other hand, if he got caught trying to leave the basement, he didn't know what to expect. 

A few hours had passed, and Fabius sat right where he had woken up. Fear had inflicted him into a cowardly decision, submissing like nothing. He needed no convincing, Fabius wasn't brave enough to take the first step towards the door. He couldn't will himself to sneak through an unfamiliar house and escape someone, even if his life was on the line. 

Fabius looked up as he heard the door open, seeing the man's silhouette in the light. It wasn't long before it shut again and his footsteps descended down the rickety steps, the quiet crinkling of a plastic bag sounding along with his steps. He dropped the bag on the ground in front of Fabius, standing in front of him and looking his body up and down for a moment. Both of them were silent for a moment, Fabius feeling confused as Harvey knelt down and dug around the bag for a moment. 

"Give me your arm." He instructed, pulling out a small tube of something Fabius couldn't really read. He felt frozen at the command, merely sitting still until Harvey shot a glare at him. "I said 'give me your arm'." He repeated, to which Fabius quickly held his shaky arm out. Harvey didn't even let out a grumble before he opened the tube and began to nonchalantly spread it on Fabius's arm. The boy stayed quiet, mostly watching what Harvey did to his arm, though his eyes did travel up to the man himself. After examining him for a moment, Fabius bowed his head and allowed Harvey to continue putting different products on Fabius's wrist, offering no explanation as to why he was doing it.


	9. Chapter Nine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is SFW

"I haven't seen him since Saturday - I went to bed early, I didn't see him that night or -" Lucius spoke on a jumble of fast paced, nervous words. His breathing was shaky and he was in tears with everything he said. "Okay, could he have sent any messages? Could he have tried to call you?" Nabil questioned, his voice was soft. He gently rubbed small circles into Lucius's back, glancing towards Allen who had always been much more logic-focused, he quickly proved that he was horrible when it came down to comforting someone. 

"He has his phone but - I didn't get any messages." Lucius said with a sniffle, wiping his cheek,"He left Malcolm's, I don't know what else happened - I thought I heard him come home but he wasn't there in the morning. I don't know where he was." Lucius continued to sob, he was practically frantic with worry at this point. 

"If he wasn't responding, why didn't you call the police as soon as you noticed he was gone?" Allen questioned, ignoring the glare from Nabil. Lucius looked up, wiping his sleeve across his face again. "He had habits of - disappearing for a while. I just thought he was taking a day away because his backpack wasn't there, but I haven't heard anything from him. I thought maybe he was spending a day away - but he won't respond on his phone. Malcolm hasn't heard anything either." Nabil nodded reassuringly as Lucius explained, sighing as he glanced back to the waiting room. Malcolm was there waiting to talk to them as well. Typically, a missing person would've been assigned to someone else - but the police were low on people, and there were no recent updates on the serial killer case. 

"Could he have ran away?" Allen finally spoke up, leaning onto the desk in interest. "I guess so - I think he would've said something. Or - left a note, even just told Malcolm. And - he was always prepared. He would've packed his bag, he wouldn't have come home at all that day-" Lucius was quickly interrupted with a sigh from Allen. "Many times a person of his age goes missing, they ran away. It was probably on a whim, hence why he wasn't prepared. There's no reason to assume the worst, we can send a group out to search for him." 

Lucius glanced between them, sure it was relieving news - but his mind was still focused on the worse. "But what if he didn't run away?" Lucius immediately questioned, leaning closer to Allen. "What if someone took him? Like - like some creepy old man - or The Manne-" Once again, Allen shook his head in interruption. "The Mannequin Killer follows a distinct pattern that your brother doesn't classify for. He only has a history of killing young women." Allen stated matter-of-factly, receiving another glare from Nabil. 

"What Detectice O'Connor means is that your brother is probably fine." Nabil smiled, looking to Lucius once again. "You should go home and get some rest, we'll take care of this." He gently patted Lucius's leg and moved further back, watching as the boy wiped his face one more time and reluctantly got up to leave. "That's definitely not the way to deal with that." Nabil quickly accused, huffing as he leaned back into his chair. Allen rolled his eyes lightly and sighed, looking over the case file. It really did seem to be just any other missing person's case, a young boy deciding to run away from his home. 

"This isn't our jurisdiction. We still have some houses to go to, we can't focus on a missing kid case." Allen explained in frustration, though Nabil just shook his head. It wasn't like Allen didn't want to help, but there was a lot on their shoulders, and it seemed like Mr. Laquris wanted to pile it up more and more. Nabil was definitely handling it better, at least it seemed that way. His own frustration was shoved down with cups of coffee, they both had their own problems going on.

"We can still go to those houses, you know that. There's just a shortage of cops for interviews at the moment." Nabil explained with a sigh, he really didn't need to explain it to Allen. He was smart, that was obvious, he was just letting his frustrated words escape before thinking about the answers to them. Nonetheless, he believed in the likelihood that Fabius Morgans did nothing more than run away from home in a fit of thoughtlessness. 

"How much longer do we need to do this?" The boy spoke up, his voice quiet and wary as his captor rubbed different lotions and serums onto his arms for the third day in a row. He had done it in the morning and at night, offering Fabius no conversation nor explanation. Fabius looked away from his frail arm and Harvey's gloved hands, instead focusing his line of sight on the man he has been so attracted to upon first meeting. "How much-" 

"I heard you the first time." Harvey replied bluntly, keeping his eyes on the boy's hands and wrist, rather than actually acknowledging him. Fabius thought Harvey an enigma, he heard his questions and processed them fine, yet he offered no answer to put Fabius's mind at any sort of ease. Maybe it was on purpose, or maybe it was better if the kidnappee didn't know his intentions. Fabius let out a defeated sigh, gulping nervously as Harvey finally dropped his arm again. It took an hour everytime, he focused so much on caring for them, yet it was something that never even occurred to Fabius. Considering he was the one who had to look at them everyday, Fabius was a lot less bothered by his own scarred wrists than Harvey was. 

Harvey began putting the lotions and strange serums back into the plastic bag they initially came in, standing up from the cold, damp concrete floor. He began his wall back upstairs, though Fabius spoke up to stop him. That alone was a rare occurence, normally he was quiet and reserved, even when he woke up with a kidnapper angry with him for something he had done long ago. 

"Wait," he interrupted, his voice hesitant and shaky. Surprisingly, Harvey actually paused in his footsteps, albeit it seemed to be with reserve. "Can I - can I come upstairs?" Fabius questioned, his voice as weak and quiet as before, which seemed to annoy Harvey even more. "Speak up." He simply demanded in response, his own voice was monotonous and borderline emotionless. Like a demand from a robot to a human. 

"I asked if I could come upstairs..." Fabius reiterated, louder, though his voice was still soft as to avoid causing any further problems between them. Fabius was locked away in a stranger's basement, he really didn't want to come off as short tempered to the man. Harvey was silent, which immediately made Fabius assume the worst. He hated being locked away in the basement, but maybe it was still better than the alternative option, which he figured would be a skinned corpse dumped on the road somewhere. 

"You'll have chores." Harvey explained coldly, though the response still surprised Fabius. He generally expected a strict no, followed by Harvey leaving - but here they still were, Fabius surely looking dumbfounded with surprise. It took him a moment to muster up the ability to form a coherent sentence once again. 

"That's fine - I-I can do chores." He assured, not that it was true. Fabius grew up in a very privileged family, he had never done chores like normal kids had. He knew how, of course, but in practice he wouldn't perform well. He knew that already, but at this point he was willing to lie just to get some decent air. Harvey turned to face Fabius further, the scowl adorning his features never seemed to leave. 

"Cooking. Cleaning. Clothes." It seemed like at this point Harvey was trying to make it sound unappealing, but Fabius simply nodded in excited agreement. "I can do all of that - please, just let me try-" Fabius pleaded, receiving a quiet scoff from Harvey. He wasn't sure why, maybe he sounded just that pathetic, or maybe Harvey was just amused by how eager he was to get out of the basement. Though it was only a few seconds that followed, it felt like years to Fabius. A silence settled between them as Harvey debated on accepting the offer, "Get up." He instructed once again, heading back towards the door. 

Fabius stood up as soon as he was told, though his legs were shaky with how long he had just been sitting. He leaned on the wall, regaining his balance before he slowly, and unsteadily, followed Harvey out of the basement.


	10. Chapter Ten

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is SFW

Everyday was seeming more and more dreary, locked away in an old house. Fabius was happy to be out of the stuffy basement, but he was just locked in another cell - he just had chores to do this time. He had to be cautious of his every step, he hated coming across Harvey at the wrong moment. He did what he was told, and went back into the basement when he was supposed to sleep. He had spotted Harvey tossing a few pillows into a closet, though, and now he was hopeful he may be getting an upgrade. 

It had been five days since Fabius disappeared from the world, or so it seemed. He hadn't heard a radio or the news, he didn't know who, if anyone was looking for him. In a way, he didn't care. His concern wasn't being missed, even if he always wanted to be. Right now he just wanted to stay alive, and that meant making Harvey as content as possible. For the time being, Fabius was little more than a maid of sorts - he didn't speak, he did what Harvey told him to do, and that was that. Right now, it was cooking. Fabius wasn't a great chef by any means, but to his luck Harvey wasn't either. Majority of his pantry were TV dinners and cups of noodles, cheap, bland foods that were stocked to the brim. Fabius tried to create some variety in their meals, but it usually came down to whether Harvey wanted fake chicken broth and bad noodles in a styrofoam container, or a frozen brick of questionable meat. Luckily, there were a few exceptions now. Harvey had willingly gotten food that Fabius could actually prepare - somewhat - albeit, it didn't make him any better of a chef. 

Harvey sat on the couch, the livingroom was dark, only illuminated by colorful flashes from the TV. He was mostly uninterested, any shows he enjoyed were only showing reruns, and he too frequently had to glance back into the kitchen to make sure Fabius was doing what he was supposed to. Other than quiet chopping of a knife, prerecorded laughter and badly timed punchlines from the TV, there was no noise. After a few seconds, that strange moment of stagnation was interrupted as Fabius let out a quiet, surprised gasp and dropped the knife onto the counter. Harvey glanced over the back of the couch, and though he couldn't see much into the kitchen, he could make out Fabius gripping his finger tightly. 

Begrudgingly, Harvey stood up and headed for the boy. He stopped beside Fabius and paused before grabbing his wrist and looking over the new cut on his finger, watching as ruby red blood began to trickle out from it. "You're making backwards progress." He pointed out blandly before dropping Fabius's wrist and leaving the kitchen temporarily. He had spent hours of his time for the last five days to try and get rid of the scars littering Fabius's wrist as much as possible. All of the expensive products he bought, all of the effort, and yet Fabius was still slipping up and hurting his hands. It just made everything more inconvenient for Harvey. 

Fabius opened his hand enough to see what he was hiding, grimacing at the bloody sight it revealed. The cut really wasn't so bad, but it had been a while since he saw the red fluid itself. After a few more moments, Harvey returned. He placed whatever he had grabbed onto the counter and turned on the sink, grabbing Fabius's wrist and shoving his hand beneath the running water to clear away the blood. A few pained sounds left Fabius's mouth, but he silenced and cowered upon getting a short glance from Harvey. 

"Hold it there." Harvey directed once more, grabbing a few paper towels before he removed Fabius's hand and put them over the cut to absorb whatever blood was still dribbling out. Every movement seemed emotionless, as if he were being forced to do it, and if he were in any other situation he would make Fabius deal with it on his own. It was difficult to tell if that really was the case, though, as it only took a minute or two for him to have the small cut on Fabius's finger wrapped up. Fabius watched as he wrapped the small, child's size bandaid around his finger. He held the silence for a moment longer, though just as he was about to break it with a thanks, there was a heavy knock on the door. 

Harvey's head quickly shot up from where he had been looking at Fabius's hand. They both seemed frozen for a moment before Harvey sternly pointed to the closet. Even though this was the perfect Chance for Fabius to run to the door, his feet seemed to walk before he had the chance to process it, and they walked right to the given destination. He kept his eyes on Harvey up until he shut the closet door, his hands shaky as they held the knob firmly. He couldn't help but bathe in his own stupidity upon realizing how hypnotically he followed Harvey's instructions. It was like he couldn't form any rational thoughts. 

Another knock sounded, somehow they seemed impatient even if no words were spoken. Harvey made sure Fabius was completely hidden awah before heading to the front door, peering out of the peephole before he opened it, finally. 

"Detectives O'Connor and Astafei," the redheaded man introduced, "We're going home to home asking questions about the series of murders occurring over the last year." Allen explained simply, waiting for some response from Harvey, yet he didn't seem to get any movements at all. "Can we come in?" He finally questioned, hoping to make some sort of progress by the end of the day. Harvey reluctantly opened the door for them to enter, making his way back inside like an annoyed child might. Allen and Nabil exchanged glances, he certainly wasn't welcoming, but they didn't necessarily expect everybody to be. 

As they entered the house, Allen made sure to examine the surroundings with caution, like he always did. He took in every nook and cranny of the visible area, but his examination was quickly interrupted, "Are you looking for something?" Harvey snarled, his eyes dead-set onto Allen as he looked around the room. He had certainly never been called out on having done it, he was rarely even asked what he was doing out of curiosity. 

"I'm looking." Allen replied vaguely, avoiding to answer any kind of question Harvey had. He already disliked him. "Do you know anything about the murders that have been taking place across the town?" Nabil butted in with a sigh, they needed to get something done. Even if that something wasn't necessarily progressive. Harvey's attention averted to Nabil, though he didn't seem any less brooding towards the other.

"I know what they show on the news." Harvey murmured, slowly turning his gaze back to the taller Irishman. "Speaking of the news, I feel like I recognize you." He sighed out lightly, drumming his finger against the counter as he leaned on it and tried to recall where he had seen Allen beforehand.

"We've never met." Allen answered conclusively, but before they could move on with the conversation, Harvey shook his head and spoke up again. "No, no, I definitely recognize your face. From something big, too." Harvey chewed on his lip as though really intense in thought, before a grin spread onto his face. "That's right, you're the widow who's husband was hit by a semi-truck a few years ago, yeah? It was all over the news, you could even see his brains on the front of it." He smiled as if proud of the conclusion, though Allen looked much less amused. "I would ask how you've been, but I think I have my answer seeing all of those needle scars in your arm." He grinned and leaned forward some, lowering his voice. "I bet you pushed him. I mean, he was a cop, right? Pretty big insurance reward, am I right? Cha-Ching."

Allen took in a deep breath, brushing the words off. It had been a long time anyways, he didn't need to think about it anymore. They were here for the investigation, he couldn't dwell on those sorts of things. "Is anyone else in the house?" Allen questioned in hope of being able to steer the conversation away from the dark turn it had taken, thanks to their unwelcoming host. "Just me, and a cat." Harvey swiftly replied, crossing his arms in a defensive way. 

"You're making two meals, just for yourself?" Allen hummed in reply soon after. Examining surroundings and taking important notes could definitely prove helpful. Harvey had nearly forgotten about the food cooking, thank's to Fabius's slip-up. "I'm trying to gain weight. Looking at you, you could probably do the same." Harvey retorted, glancing towards Nabil, "Not you." 

"That's extremely inappropriate." Allen accused, though he knew that wouldn't bring an end to Harvey's comments. In fact, it did quite the opposite. "That's inappropriate, but talking about your heroin addiction isn't?" Harvey scoffed, looking back to the damages done to the crease of Allen's arm. He had fixed himself since then, but the scars were a constant reminder that he would always regret. "Sounds like someone is defensive of their work partner. Do you have a crush?" Every word Harvey spoke was - demeaning, teasing in a cruel way. "I'm not wasting my time here." Allen finally settled the conversation and turned on his heel to leave, Nabil following in tow like a confused child might. Harvey just watched them, a bit too pridefully. 

"You shouldn't listen to that." Nabil advised once they were both out of earshot, getting back into their police car. "He was just some emo asshole who was trying to get to you. Probably so he could talk about how he pissed off a cop on his Tumblr blog." Nabil looked to Allen as he settled into the car, staring out of the windshield in thought. "Seriously, just forget about it."

"It's not what he said that bothers me." Allen explained absentmindedly. "It's how he said it." Despite some of the cruel things that had been said, Allen really didn't sound bothered at all. "What do you mean?" Nabil questioned, looking back to the house they were parked in front of as if it could answer his question. 

"The observance, putting things together. He thinks like me."


End file.
